Innocent Words, Twisted Meanings
by athemyst
Summary: I wonder, what does Lark do to Rosethorn that softens her so much?" Good question. And of course, the four are obliged to answer the ruler of Emelan. Of course, how Briar answers is something neither the duke or the girls expect. Lark/Rosethorn Oneshot


On the sun bleached roof of Discipline, four teenage mages rested there, lazily sunning themselves. One, a girl with hair turned light by the sun idly unraveled the hem of her dress before effortlessly weaving them together again without ever touching them. Her closest companion, a girl of 13 with dark skin and darker hair tied into multiple short braids shot the wriggling garment a dry glance.

"If you keep doing that to your dress, you'll end up ruining it, Sandry" she remarked.

"Hm?" asked Sandry absentmindedly. "Oh, this? It'll be fine. You know I do this all the time, Daja." The noble flapped a hand carelessly and returned to destroying and repairing her clothing in a breaths time.

The other girl, a redhead with spectacles, lifted her head to observe what Sandry was doing.

"Then why is it that every time, Sandry, when it's my turn to wash the clothes that your dresses are always a little raggedy at the ends?" Tris inquired. Her gray eyes, normally stormy and sharp, were cloudy with the pleasantness of feeling the light wind in the air and the reassuring heat of the thatched roof. "And such a waste too; your clothes cost more than all of ours combined."

"You would know, merchant girl" drawled a boy's voice from the other side of the roof. A pair of green-gray eyes peered over to meet mildly irritated gray ones; his tousled black hair flicked in the breeze.

"Since when did you ever call me merchant girl?" Tris demanded

"Ever since Daja stopped" the ex-thief replied playfully. To Sandry he said, "I'da though you coulda controlled your magic better by now though."

The girl blushed. "I _can_, when I'm concentrating," she muttered defensively "and besides, it's good practice."

"Sandry," Daja interrupted before Briar could reply with a teasing, and no doubt infuriating comment. "Isn't that your grand uncle come to visit you?" She leaned over the edge of the roof and shielded her eyes with her hand as she squinted against the sun toward the dark figure of a man on a horse.

Thread trailing from the hem of her dress, forgotten, Sandry immediately jumped up and joined Daja at her post. Tris smirked at the dangling string that hung with unsightly indignity from the noble's costly garments, but made no move to tell her about it. Sandry meanwhile, had identified the shadow and was now scrambling down the ladder to the attic.

"Come _on_" she hissed to the remaining three who still had not moved. "Uncle's here! He'll want to see all of us!" With that, she disappeared into the shadows of the house.

Sighing, Briar, Tris, and Daja stood up, groaning as they abandoned their comfortable positions to follow their friend down the ladder. Briar could see the small figure that was Sandry already running towards the moving shadow that was her uncle. Oh, Lakik bless, the boy thought. We're going to have to run to make it.

When the others finally joined Sandry, panting slightly (Tris was an interesting shade of red), they found an over excited girl leading her uncle to the cottage and yammering nonstop. She paused to look at her friends, frowning slightly, and said,

"What took you so long? You missed saying hi to uncle's guards!" While Tris glared at the noble with murderous intent, Brian and Daja pointedly ignored Sandry and bowed to the ruler of Emelan. Straightening, Daja smiled apologetically.

"We're sorry, your grace. But Sandry was moving so fast, we could barely keep up."

"It's not my fault you were slow!" Sandry protested.

"And it's not _our_ fault that you were running so fast that even Lark couldn't have beat you"

As Sandry blushed and grinned an apology to the irate girl, Duke Vedris sighed.

"Speaking of Lark," he said with unusual dejection. "Do you young mages have any idea how Lark manages Rosethorn?"

The children glanced at each other. Lark and Rosethorn had gone to the citadel to see the Duke for some matter. Had something happened?

_Maybe Rosethorn gave him a tongue lashing?_ Suggested Briar in the girls' minds.

_Who knows? Why should she? She respects him as well as any of us do_. Tris argued

_But you know Rosethorn. She _speaks_ her mind when she wants to, and then there's no stopping her._ Daja's response had the rest nodding their heads in rueful agreement. They had all been subject to Rosethorn's tempers before.

_Well, whatever the reason is, we'll know by asking Uncle._ Sandry concluded. Clearing her throat, the girl asked,

"Uncle? Has something happened between you and Rosethorn?" Duke Vedris smiled at his niece fondly.

"No, not really. She simply treated me to one of her famous whippings-

_Told you! _Crowed Briar triumphantly.

_Hush! _Scolded Tris. _He's still talking._

"-But what really surprised me was that Lark managed to convince her to apologize to me afterward. TO imagine the day I would hear Rosethorn apologize to anyone!" He laughed lightly, a tinge of disbelief in it

_That's all? I was expecting an argument… _Daja thought

_Yes_ the others agreed.

_But…I wonder if he understands their relationship. If he did, he wouldn't be so surprised. _Tris' musings had them all remember when they had fully known it. It was now so natural that none of them felt disturbed by that knowledge.

"I wonder, what does Lark do to Rosethorn that softens her so much?" Sandry's uncles wonderings awakened the children from their own, as they thought uncomfortably of how to respond. Lark and Rosethorn had forbid them to announce their unusual relationship to others without their permission. On the other hand, they weren't quite prepared to lie about it to the Duke. Just as Sandry was about to change the subject, Briar's thoughts bloomed in her mind, crystal clear, and ten times as unclean. Her eyes widened, and she heard Tris gasp. Sneaking a look at her Trader friend, she was horrified to see that Daja's lips were twitching.

Before Tris could do anything to stop Briar, from interrupting his next words to bodily forcing him to shut up, he'd already said, casually,

"Would you like to know, you Grace, what Lark does to make Rosethorn behave?"

"Oh? Is there some secret now?" The Duke asked with one of his soft smiles. _Innocent_ smiles. He has no idea, thought Tris. Daja simply looked amused. The weather witch didn't even want to know what Sandry's expression was.

"Well, Lark does have her ways, of course…"

"And what would they be?" asked Duke Vedris curiously.

"Well, first of all, know Rosethorn's _sensitive spots_"

_BRIAR! Don't- You're- He doesn't-_ He blocked out Sandry's and Tris' desperate cries.

"Sensitive spots? Oh, you mean her weak points?"

The boy smirked. "You could call them that, yes." Tris' face was radish red; Sandry looked as if someone had stunned her with lightening. Daja was having trouble suppressing the grin that kept spreading across her face. A very twisted grin, Briar noticed wryly. Then again, was he any better?

Emelan's ruler frowned. "But, knowing Rosethorn, I would have expected that she would simply snap at you if you went for her weak points…"

But Briar simply smiled reassuringly. "The second point would be-"

_I can't _believe_ that you just said that! What you're doing is- _Once again, the plant mage snapped the cord that connected him to the frantic girls.

"-to remember that when she's _in pleasure_, she's _much_ more vulnerable to suggestions"

Not noticing the faint expression on his nieces' face, Duke Vedris simply twisted his lips into a half smile. "I'd be hard pressed to find Rosethorn in a cheerful mood"

_Your uncle really is naïve isn't he Sandry? _

_Daja! Don't say that! He's, he's- It's a good thing he doesn't understand yet! Mila help me, STOP Briar! _

_Now don't say that Sandry. I'm not actually telling up Lark and Rosethorn's precious little secret, and I'm not lying to your dear uncle either. You should be thanking me. Don't you complain either merchant girl_

_Don't you call me that! What are you doing?! Stop it right now! This is so humiliating!_

"Oh, don't worry about that, Your Grace. For now, just remember these tips. And that these _are_ the secrets Lark herself uses. And now, for the third point, and the most important one…"

"I see. Do share- what is the third secret?"

The girls saw the Briar's answer in their minds- and very nearly lost it. Daja was red in the face and was biting her teeth to keep from laughing. Tris was hanging onto a tree with white knuckles and Sandry's whole body was quivering- whether from crazy laughter or helpless tears they couldn't tell.

"The third point is to have a skilled tongue."

She couldn't help it- laugher escaped Daja's lips and she snorted. As the Duke swiveled his head to stare at her instead with raised eyebrows, she quickly turned the snort of laughter into a semblance of clearing her throat and continued Briar's words.

"Um, yes. Duke Vedris, having a capable tongue will prove very…useful."

_Daja! Not you too!_

"Ah. You mean the power of persuasion, I presume?"

The girl let forth a wide grin that held too much mirth for the Duke to feel comfortable with. "Oh, _yes. _Believe me, your Grace, it's the very _essence_ of persuasion. Lark uses it all the time"

And as her uncle's mouth opened slightly and his face twisted into dreadful understanding, Sandry resolved to learn a spell that would have her two sick housemates' clothes attack them. For a week.

Watching the Duke's face dawn with a horrible understanding, and an odd too bright light enter his eye, Tris could feel the itch to slam the wind's force onto her two disgusting friends until every dirty thought was blown clean away.

"Ah."


End file.
